Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1887-12-23
CHAPTER II.

IN WHICH JOHN REAPs TIE wHIRLwIND.
About 1880 it was Johns brave good for
tune to offer his arm to Miss Mackenzie, and
escort her home The night was chill and
starry; all the way eastward the trees of the
different gardens rustled and looked black
Up the stone gully of Leith Walk when they
came to cross it, the breeze made a rush and
set the flames of the. street lamps quavering;
and when at last they had mounted to the
Royal Terrace, where Capt. Mackenzie lived,
a great salt freshness came in their faces
from the sea These phases of the walk re-
manned written on Johns memory, each en-
phasized 10y the touch of that light hand on
his arm; and behind all these aspects of the
nocturnal city he saw, in his minds eye a
picture of the lighted drawing room at home
where he had sat talking with Flora; and his
father, from the other end, had looked on
with "A kind aud ironical smile John had
read the significance of that smile, which
might have escaped stranger Mr.. Nichol-
son had remarked his sons ENHANCEMENT
with satisfaction, tinged by humor; and his
smile, if it still was "A thought contemptu-
Gus, had implied consent.
At the captains door the girl held out her
hand, with certain emphasis; and John
took it and kept it little longer, and said,
Good night, Flora, dear and was instantly
thrown into much fear by his presumption.
But she only laughed, ran up the steps, ami
rang the bell and while she was waiting for
the door to open, kept close in the porch, and
talked to him from that point as out of q
fertilization. She had knitted shawl over
her head her blue Highland eyes took the
light from the neighboring street lamp and
sparkled; and when the door opened and
closed upon her, John felt cruelty alone.
He proceeded slowly back along the terrace
in a tender glow; and when he came to
Greensde church, he halted in a doubtful
mind. Over the crown of the Cation hill, to
his left, lay the way to Colette's where Alan
would soon be looking for his arrival, and
where he would now have no more consented
to go than he would have willfully wallowed
in n bog; the touch of the girls hand ON his
sleeve, and the kindly light in his fathers
eyes, both loudly forbidding. But right be
fore him was the way home, which pointed
only to bed, a place of little ease for one
whose fancy was strung to the lyrical pitch,
and whose not very ardent heart was Just
then unanimously moved. The hill top the
cool air of the night, the company of the
great monuments, the sight of the city under
his feet, with its hills and valleys and cross
ing files of lamps, drew him by all he had of
the poetic, and he turned that way; and by
that quite innocent detection, ripened the
crop of his venial errors for the sickle of
destiny.
On a seat on the hill above Greenside he
sat for perhaps half an hour looking down
upon the lamps of Edinburgh and up at the
lamps of heaven. Wonderful were the re-
solves he formed; beautiful and kindly were
the vistas of future life that sped before him.
He uttered to himself the name of Flora in SC
many touching and dramatic keys that he
became at length fairly melted with tender
ness, and could have sung aloud. At that